


Vitae benefaria

by The_red_strings



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:39:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_red_strings/pseuds/The_red_strings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sloan ruthford wanted to be more than her mother more then the inquisitors daughter, but fame lager than her mothers will cost something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vitae benefaria

Face white and blistering, eyelids swollen nearly shut, hair falling from the front of her forehead in thin clusters, the victim of tevinter stumbled blindly around the room both hands frantically waving in front of her. Her cries came from deep within her chest, rabid animal sounds that twisted into raspy moans by the time they left her cracking lips. She tried to say something, but it came out as nothing but a guttural bark. She was grabbed by two burly arms and she did not have the energy to fight. They put her in the chains and she was submissive until the seething hot iron brand came near to her forehead. She thrashed and yelled before the magistrates from each angle pulled her. First to the right then down then left and up until centered where a young human mage held her hair back. Words of Tevene seeped out from her mouth whispering the words to cause her fear. “Maleficar, Alluvin valla ka beseve dorusl.” The words slipped out her mouth like a snake's tongue. Her eyes widened as the branding iron was pressed against her skin welding in the symbol that would keep her a slave forever. Her screams echoed against the brick walls until the it was silent of voices, and only the heavy heaving was heard from Sloan. Her head hung low as the branding was complete. Thick blood dripped down her face and stained her white hair which had been choppily cut. Ever so slowly the magistrates slipped outside the room leaving the girl chained to the floor. After some time she thrust upwards with every muscle she had, gritting her teeth when the chains tightened around her form , trying to overcome her captivity. She could feel the chains groan in strain and she pushed harder. Hope. It existed. Just a little more... A few inches. One of her joints popped out of its socket, cleanly as a twisted arm. She clenched her teeth harder. A few more and she'd be free, but that would be too easy.

She would then have hope, and that was something she couldn't have. She needed to be broken down hard. She must break.


End file.
